


Wrapped around my heart

by RobinNightngale



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Red String of Fate, Wordcount: Over 15.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 23:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5434151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinNightngale/pseuds/RobinNightngale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Tim are connected even before they meet, but those bonds are threatened by the bomb that sends Jason into a coma.<br/>While each of them struggle to hold on, Tim finds a kindred spirit in Cass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrapped around my heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [curiouslyfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouslyfic/gifts).



> Thank you writeroffates, superherokink, and sasusprite for being wonderful editing and brain storming buddies. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you guys.
> 
> Also I have no idea how it got so out of hand, whoops.
> 
> Mystacina miocenalis is a prehistoric bat that walked on the ground that is three times the size of normal bats and was described to hold it's wings like Batman's cape.

Darkness in most cultures is connected with the unknown, the dangerous, the bad. It could spell the end of people, the devolution into fear, the grips of chaos wrapping tight and dragging one down into nothingness.  Standing on the sharp stones of a towering Gotham City rooftop, Tim spread his arms outward while his eyes slid closed.  The wind caught his jacket and hair, the force almost causing him to stagger back from the edge.  A laugh bubbled up from him as he opened his eyes, taking in all of the city, all its glowing lights, all its darkness.

To him, the pitch black meant much more than it did to other people.  For Tim it represented freedom.  Once the last lights of evening faded away he could leave his cold empty house and escape into the beating heart of the city.  There he became the shadow of the city’s protectors, Batman and Robin. In the shadows watching them, his heart raced.  In the darkness he could sometimes see the red string that wound its way tightly around his finger and out into the world to attach to someone else’s hand.  It became a beacon when everything closed in, when his parents wouldn’t stop shouting for the few moments they even shared a space with him, a hope almost as bright as Robin himself.

 

Life as Robin, soaring through the air, helping people who couldn’t always defend themselves, it was more then Jason could ever wish for.  He had Bruce, and Alfred, and the red string around his finger that had been keeping him company since he could really remember. Some nights, when it seemed the most real, he would try to follow it, try to figure out where it lead to. Despite his lack of success it didn’t hinder his determination.  But Robin had its downsides too, it meant coming to terms with the fact he couldn’t save them all.  Rapists got away with it, and women who he should have been able to save, should have helped, fell from life.  Sometimes the last things seen could burn themselves into his mind, forced there like shrapnel from an explosion.

As if his thoughts had triggered it, what felt like an explosion rippled through Jason, sending his eyes flying open and his body arching upwards.  He wheezed in breaths, arms instantly wrapping around to hold himself tighter as the smell of smoke, burning flesh, and explosives seared themselves into his nostrils. His body screamed in agony from the beating his brain still told him he felt. All his eyes could see was the fall of his biological mother’s ropes and the countdown of a digital clock on his life hitting zero again and again.

When he finally adjusted to his grey, misty surroundings, he felt as if he had lived through the betrayal, the beating, the explosion a thousand times. Somehow he managed to sit up, to look around him and actually take himself and his environment in.

“If this is death… it sucks,” the young man muttered under his breath as he tried to get himself higher than the layer of mist that surrounded him.  Everything looked too dull and murky for it to be some sort of heaven, and he seriously doubted he had landed himself in hell.  During his time he hadn’t always been the most behaved, but his last act had to count for something.

It took only a second from when the thought passed through his head to make Jason double over and gasp for air.  Not only had his biological mother willingly handed him over at gunpoint to the Joker, but wherever he was now Bruce wasn’t there.  Jason couldn’t remember him at all after that point, he might not have reached them, he might not have gotten there in time.  A stifled sob escaped his lips before he scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to stand straighter.

A new determination took over Jay, he would figure out where he was, he would find out what happened after the explosion.  Steeling himself, he began to implement his Robin training.  For as far as his eye could see everything was a dark grey that faded into black nothingness.  The ground was coated in a thick mist that went up almost to mid calf, making it difficult for him to clearly see his boots.

“Maybe I’m in limbo, like a fucking waiting room, or a…” he trailed off, a look of sudden realization coming across him. “A place sterile enough to be a god damn hospital!” The young man groaned out and ran a hand through his messy hair.  “If this is a coma dream I’m really gonna hate myself for lacking some damned creativity, or ya know, some comfort,” he snapped at himself as the idea became more and more plausible.  Unfortunately, it didn’t help how lost and confused his surroundings made him. To start he walked a systematic spiral from where he’d regained consciousness in hopes something would have appeared nearby to actually tell him what was going on.  His hopes were not unfounded.

A clank echoed through air as his foot connected with something metal, the sounds of slight rolling accompanied it as he froze, his brain racing at the fact he finally found something.  Gingerly, Jason bent down and felt for the item until his fingers finally brushed up against cool thin metal.  To say his face fell at the sight of a tin can connected to some string, would be the understatement of the year. Every curse and insult in the book flew out of his mouth along with a few he just thought might piss off whoever thought this was a good joke to play on some miserable teen.

About to yank at it hard, Jason froze, his eyes finally landing on the string that hung limply from the can.  It looked as if it had survived a war zone with almost the entire body of it frayed and so thin if he shifted it slightly it sometimes disappeared from his vision.  The scariest part of his discovery was the string itself, it looked like the one he had seen before, the red string that had been tied around his finger.

 

When Tim woke up he didn’t expect his life to change within moments, that sort of thing was penciled in after he’d trudged around for a bit and ate breakfast.  Life wasn’t supposed to become so different when he glanced down at his hand, at the red string trailing off into the air.  Except everything looked wrong, barely a strand was still connected to him, the frayed ends had a char over them, and before his eyes it looked like it was disappearing into nothingness.  In that single moment he knew nothing would be the same.

All the things he imagined never included donning a mask and taking over the title of Robin.  He could never imagine that his idol might descend into a spiral downward, and that he might have what it took to try and push him out.  His success was rather varied, at moments it seemed his old hero returned then a second he was back at arm's length.  Sometimes wearing the bright colors and confidence of the boy wonder felt as hollow and empty as the house he left behind in the middle of the night.

Even working with Oracle and occasionally Nightwing didn’t stop the feeling aching inside of him while he seemed to stand right on the outside to them.  For a moment when the new Batgirl arrived he thought that he would finally feel like he belonged, alongside someone else who was new to this world.

A lot of words could describe Tim’s first interaction with Cassandra, but only one stuck out the clearest in his mind, terrified.  Her sheer knowledge of martial arts and the echoing silence froze him, even after her mind had been rewired.   Nowhere in his repertoire did he have something to deal with someone who surpassed him in so many ways along with being close in age.

Their first few encounters at least broke the awkwardness he felt every time he came around her, but nothing had prepared him to finding her frowning on Barbara’s couch in the clocktower as she stared at a rather large book.  He didn’t even try to soften his footsteps as he approached, both her reputation and his experience told him that she already knew he’d entered the room.

“I thought you’d be patrolling.”

“Barbara says it’s important for me to have time off.  Make sure not all my life’s Batgirl.” He could hear in her tone that most of her focus still hung on the book in front of her.

“How’s the language learning going?” He pried cautiously as he went to peer over her shoulder at the book.  “Oh I love this series! Babs and I debate about how the series is going to progress all the time!”

When he looked up, Tim had to remind himself to breath again from the critical look Cass gave him.  No matter how comfortable they had gotten, he wasn’t that at ease with her yet.

“I have a deal for you.  You help me with this book, and I’ll help you with your left guard,” her words came out matter of factly, as if the bargain already had been agreed upon.  She stuck her hand out, eyes never leaving his.

“My left guard is fine,” Tim tried to sound indignant, he really attempted to put some heart into his defense.  It was obvious to both of them that she had hit the nail on the head.  Currently, the young vigilante’s defense passed against the thugs he went against daily,  but when he went against Bruce or Dick it often became his weakest link.  Cass seemed to know that even he knew better than to try and dispute her too much, raising an eyebrow in almost a challenge.  

Sighing heavily, Tim sat down in the empty spot on the couch.  “How do you want to do this?  Me to read to you from the same book, you sound it out to me, me reading aloud as you follow along with the book?” He offered up as he glanced at her.

When Babs came back from dinner with her father, she was more than a little surprised to see Tim on her couch with Cass pressed up against his side, their entire attention on the book they’re holding between them as Tim reads in a steady soft voice while Cass turns the pages.

“Well this is unexpected…” The older woman mumbled to herself as she tried to leave them undisturbed.

“I think it will become a tradition,” Cass responded without even looking up.

“Yeah, as long as your part of it doesn’t leave my ribs too bruised,” Tim added in with a slight laugh, his eyes darting up to meet Barbara’s.  She smiled and shook her head, leaving the two be.

Within a month Cass’s declaration had come true.  Every other day they would find a way to sit down and read unless the city wouldn’t allow it at all.  At least once a week they went through a rigorous training regimen that left Tim almost as bruised as some of his patrols.

Never before had he imagined that at moments he felt his weakest he would find himself connecting even more with someone, but Cass had this way to make all his previous training feel like a tutorial he took on beginner mode or easing someone into a two hour D&D game.  Lady Siva had trained him of all people and he’d beat her once for underestimating him, to Cass none of that made a difference.  His body never let her think less of his skills.

Despite everything he actually saw progress the next couple times he sparred against both Bruce and Dick.  From the looks of mild surprise they gave him, Babs had yet to tell them about his training sessions with Batgirl.  If neither of them had mentioned anything, he wouldn’t.  Nothing could get him to give up the purity in those moments, the simplicity that seemed to let him feel out who he was becoming, who Robin made him.

Seeing Cass trusting him enough to help her with English made it feel like he wasn’t just some charity case that frustrated her enough to work on.  That she knew he wouldn’t make her feel stupid, wouldn’t belittle her for anything she struggled with, made his heart soar.

It spoke to his level of improvement that Cass laid a few feet away from him panting, that in turn meant that his muscles screamed at him and he was drenched in sweat but the satisfaction was worth the fact she actually broke a sweat.

“You think… maybe we should try… audio books…?” Tim managed to ask as he grunted in a feeble attempt to reach his water.

“No.”  Her response was so quick it caught him off guard and undid all his progress in sitting up.  Before he could even ask she elaborated, “I can’t slow down a recording, it won’t know when I’m confused, when it doesn’t…”

“Click,” Tim supplied automatically.

He could hear the smile in her voice as Cass spoke again, “See, proved my point.  A recording will make me feel, uh… air brained for asking questions later.”

“Alright, that makes sense. I was just thinking some extra work.” The teenage wonder winced as he sat up and finally grasped his water.

Silence hung in the air for a long while, though none of it uncomfortable.  On the other hand, both were hard at thought, giving the other careful consideration.

“Do you ever miss it?” Cass’s voice was almost soft as she asked, like she was unsure if she could approach the subject.

“Hm?” Something about her cautiousness brought him out of his thoughts and planning for the next time they read.

“Before you became Robin, do you miss it?”

Lying back down, Tim stared at the lights above him, mulling over his response, “No… not really.  A while before I became Robin things had taken a turn for the worse… My parents were fighting even more then stopped talking to each other all together, which meant they spent even less time at home.  I hadn’t thought that was possible but they proved me wrong, and if things had gone on longer there isn’t a doubt in my head things wouldn’t end with divorce. I’d gotten switched to yet another boarding school.  Robin… Robin had gone missing… and my… my red string almost became nothing…” The words came pouring out before he could stop them, things he had never told another soul, never let anyone else know were important to him spilled out for Cass to hear.

She stayed quiet, letting him talk himself out as she mulled over his words.  There was too much in everything he said for her to address all at once.  “Did you know the previous Robin?”

“No, but I watched him like I did Batman and the other Robin, knew who he was.  As much as Bruce was my idol, Robin… Robin was my dream.  Not that I wanted to be Robin, I just…” Tim trailed off, frowning to himself for his inability to find the right words to describe his feelings, his attachment to Robin and this Robin.

Cass shifted to sit next to him.  “I understand.  Sometimes words can’t equal in here.”  She tapped his chest, right over his heart.

“Yeah… yeah…”

“Now, what is this red string?”

For this he sat up, “Alright this’ll take a bit explaining, it makes sense that you wouldn’t know about it honestly.”  The young woman tilted her head at him questioningly.  “It’s sorta taboo to talk about in most cultures I’ve heard about, something private. The red string is said to connect to the person or persons you will love in your lifetime.  Not everyone can see them, not everyone has them either, but enough do.  To my knowledge it isn’t set in stone either, you won’t always end up finding the person or it lasting your whole life.”

“How do you know all this?”

“My parents were archeologists, and I was interested. I had the resources and the right people there to ask.”

“Can you… can you see yours still?” she hesitated, unsure if she pushed a boundary from the tone of his voice when he brought it up.

Almost as if instinctual, he looked at his hand, looked at the flicker of red trailing off into the shadows of the room.  In the two years that passed since he woke up to it almost burnt away, it never changed.  “Yeah, sometimes. I can feel the slight pressure squeezing against my finger when I need it, when I need to remember there’s someone hanging on out there, someone out there for me to find.”

“Are there other types?”

“Not that I know of, but that doesn’t mean anything.  I’ve never seen it documented but that might mean they just never cared about it enough.”

Cass nodded, her brow furrowing in concentration.  They sat silently for a while before she hopped to her feet. “Clear your schedule tomorrow.”

“Uh, I have school?”

She waved dismissively, “Skip, or I’ll find you after.”

“Do I get to know what’s going on?”

The grin she gave him made his blood run cold.  “No.”  Before he could argue or question more she trotted out of the exercise room in the clocktower, leaving Tim to his confusion.

True to her word Cass appeared in front of his school right at the last bell.  He hurriedly said his goodbyes to Ives as he jogged over.

“Where are we-”

“Subway, come on,” she motion over her shoulder as she spoke, not waiting to see if he was following as she walked away.

Together they rode in silence, the after school crowds making it impossible if they had wanted to talk.  Tim doubted that he would get an explanation before they got to their destination even if he could pepper her with questions.  Waiting proved to be the part that killed him the most, not know was never something he was good at especially when the solution sat right in front of him beyond his reach.

With all of the theories running through his head, a hospital wasn’t one of the possibilities.  Soundlessly he followed Cass into the elevator, anxiety eating away at him now as he tried to figure out what she might not tell him anything about.

“You figured out the identities, correct?”  She left out any names on purpose and kept staring ahead, obviously aware of the cameras.

“Yeah, through the first but it got me to the big guy and the next one.”

“So you know who he is?”

Tim chewed his lip for a moment as the doors dinged open and they headed out.  “Yes, I do know who he is.  I know something… happened.  My own world was going upside down around then, I caught bits and pieces, looked into it a bit but I couldn’t find much.”

“Because Bruce made sure that this wasn’t everywhere, to make it easier,” Cass spoke solemnly as she opened a hospital room door.

From everything said Tim could piece together what laid in the room, but it still didn’t change his reaction.  Thankfully a chair was positioned by the door giving him something to stabilize himself as all the air came rushing out of him.  Nothing in the world could prepare him for the sight of his child hero hooked up to machines, lying unresponsive in the hospital bed.

Cass gently closed the door and sat down in a set of chairs angled close to the bed.  “His injuries were so great they had to… put him in the coma.  They stopped that a year ago.”

Somehow he managed to make himself sit in the chair next to Cass.  “Why did you bring me here…?” the teen wonder croaked out, hands shaking slightly in his lap.

“Because I think he would like you, and Barbara’s told me talking to him is good, he might hear it.”

That pulled a laugh out of him, “Right, he’d like me. What would I even say? Hi my name is Tim, I forced Bruce to take me on as Robin to stop him from being self-destructive, I feel like I’m never going to fit into the pixie boots I don’t even wear, I followed you guys around from like age eight, oh and I’m a pretty bamf dungeon master?!” Tim asked incredulously.

If shock had set in before, he had entered a new state of it as Cass began to laugh, “From what Babs told me, yup, he’d like you.”

“Why? My ability to spout off random sci-fi facts and recite off the top of my head a list of the major ancient female deities that were booted from power by the beginnings of our patriarchal society?”

This just made Cass grin, “Yes. Your heart, your attitude, your love of Gotham. He’d like it.”

 

Jason wondered if stages of coma grief existed.  To him it would make sense, especially with all he had been through since he got to this place.  First came the hurt associated with his betrayal and explosion, it then manifested into anger at his surroundings, at his inability to change or do anything.  Now though, now he experienced exhaustion.  He had no idea how long he had been in this state, and any more time in utter isolation would inevitably make him pull his hair out.  Sometimes he caught snippets of voices, never full words or conversations.  Their tone of voice gave him the best guess to who might be in the room, the deeper voice Bruce, the taunt voice Alfred, the other male voice probably Dick, and the woman Barbara.  At some point in time another female sounding voice occasionally whispered past him, but he had no idea who that was.  None of it felt enough, glimpses into the world he was missing didn’t satiate the need for contact.  Occasionally he talked to himself, but didn’t do much either.  It only left him feeling alone and going crazy.  

It was that feeling that was overcoming him when he heard a voice cut cleanly through the air.

“Why did you bring me here…?”  

Jason had never heard this person before, but the young woman who responded sounded faintly like the unknown voice from before.  This time he could understand what she said, though not as clearly as the young man.

“Hello?! Can you hear me?!” Jason shouted, then looked at the tin can laying where he had sprawled out previously.  With pure desperation he grabbed at it, utterly delighted that he could hear the boy even better still.

His elation was short lived though as the next few words fell out of the boy’s, Tim’s, mouth.  Bruce had a new Robin, and he was right beside him.  Before it sunk in completely his knees gave way, sending him crashing to the ground with the tin can still in his hand, the string draping over him.  Even in his state of shock though, he couldn’t stop taking in the rest of the boy’s words.

Weakly, he brought the can up to his mouth, “Please… tell me more… did he make that monster pay..?  Is my mother alive..?  How long have I been here…?”

The exasperated sound of Tim’s voice as he spoke brought a crooked smile to his lips.  If anything could be said about this new Robin, the kid had fire running through his veins and from the sound of it a little pain too.  As the shock wore off Jay forced himself to his feet, and to deal with all this new information.

According to Tim, Bruce had gone self destructive and to stop that Tim made him take him on as Robin.  He could deal with all the complex emotions later concerning how he felt about this guy taking over and B hitting rock bottom in the wake of whatever happened to him, too much happened now to fixate.  Some of the juiciest dropped bits was the comment on following.  No matter how he felt he couldn’t stop the awe and respect that an eight year old kept up with them on patrols while keeping out of sight for all that time.

The more he listened the more he wanted to actually talk with both Tim and the young woman he referred to as Cass.  Whatever she knew about him, it made her evaluation spot on.  Despite any churning feelings deep inside, at first blush he liked his replacement.  He had a sharp tongue, quick wit, and what sounded like an adorable sputter when caught off guard.  Jason even found himself doing commentary alongside them.

“You know what really sucks? The fact that you can’t hear a damned thing I’m saying! This is good material, and it’s just going into the wasteland that is this coma dream.  That is unless this is where good ideas are collected and sent to conscious people, if so I want a cut of the royalties,” Jay grumbled into the tin can as he shook it in some failed hope of increasing reception on his end.  “I thought these stupid phone things were two ways you defective goose!”  Without thinking he tossed the metal towards the ground, annoyance taking over.

Horror broke over his face as the metallic clang echoed.  The red string that connected it to wherever still looked extremely fragile and he might have destroyed his main contact to the outside world.  He grabbed it and breathed a sigh of relief to see no harm had come to it.

“At least you’re not a coconut and I don't have a permanent marker cause then I'd just get really stereotypical. Though on the one hand on a deserted island I'd have more to look at then a bad horror movie mood environment loop,” he muttered as he buffed the can a bit on his shirt.

By the time he returned his attention to the voices again he caught an awkward goodbye before they started to fade away.  He let out a loud groan and threw up his hands, “Of fucking course right as I’m having like my second existential crisis of the day they decide to pack up and leave me all by my lonesome without me even properly saying goodbye. And I wonder who’s fault that is.” He glared pointed tin can then dropped his head.  “I just… I just addressed a tin can like it could understand me… Yup, I’ve been alone way too long.”

 

The next time Cass brought Tim around she had to needle him into speaking at all.  By then Jason had already gone through the full spectrum of hate and hurt connected to his successor.  If his situation was different, if he wasn’t so desperate maybe he could have hated the boy for what he represented, what he might mean, but so far he was his lightning rod to the outside world.  Jason Peter Todd never looked a gift horse in the mouth, though he might kick a gift bat in the shins and call them a big boob.

All of that considered, it didn’t stop Jason from wondering why this sudden change, why this stranger suddenly had a connection with him.  Unfortunately, all his investigative training didn’t amount for much when he couldn’t interact with the subject, let alone do anything on his own.  Any information or leads would have to come from the one source he had on the outside, and anyone around him.

Already on now regular visits from Cass and Tim, he could hear the boy opening up more about both himself and the goings on about the current batfamily.  What surprised him though was one of the days they didn’t talk to him much, but Tim read aloud and from the way he spoke it was clear Jason wasn’t the main audience.  Through some of the previous bits he caught through the years he knew others read to him pretty regularly, Dick, Alfred, and Babs in particular.  The rate Tim spoke made him think he read to someone who didn’t know much English, which jibbed with how he heard Cass speak previously.

Honestly he sometimes found himself enjoying these visits more than the normal ones, it relaxed him and gave him some much needed entertainment.  It also allowed his mind to wander back to all the books he’s read both while living at the Manor and before then.

“Something tells me you wouldn’t be comfortable reading some of my normal material aloud,” Jay mused as he remembered the horrified expression when Alfie caught the teenager reading trashy romance novels in the Wayne Manor Sun Room.  “Oh man the old man must ‘ave burst a couple blood vessels when he saw me toss that one across the room. I doubt he would have done differently if he read ‘Darcy had never done this before, nor did she ever imagine six inches looking like that.’ The sex scenes in that one were absolutely atrocious, pretty sure Donna and Kory would have made wonderful target practice out of it with utter glee.”  That mental image made him cackle, getting all sorts of enjoyment as he picture the star bolts whizzing through the air.  “In all seriousness,” Jason addressed the air as he spoke into the tin can, his finger lightly brushing against the red string. “If you want a wider book selection Herland’s always a good one, but ask Babs, she’s got a library cause well she belonged to a library but that’s besides the point.  Just ask Ms. Dewey Decimal System for something and she’ll probably be able to recite the whole stupid thing.”

He fell silent as he thought back on Babs.  Jay missed how she chided him and ruffled his hair, how when he made flirtatious comments she saw them as they really were, banter and being cheeky, and just rolled her eyes.  From the visits she did on her own, the few times she accompanied the teens, and what Cass said, Barbara took what happened to her and given the biggest fuck you to the Joker possible.  If anyone could do that it was her without a doubt.

The hard part of getting lost in his thoughts was the time.  He lost all sense of time after just a little while of being in this state, but the longer he lost focus on the outside sounds the more he noticed he’d missed things.  By the way they talked sometimes, Jay felt like he zoned out for weeks at a time.  He had a slight schedule from Cass and Tim’s visits, but they sometimes were inconsistent and he had no idea how much time passed between them.

Sometimes when Babs showed up with them it got worse.  A constant flood of memories would be triggered and utterly overwhelm him.  Those were the times it felt like it took him the longest to return to the now and not get lost.  Even with Tim’s crisp voice echoing through his world he’d get sucked back.  The former Robin hated it, he lost his connection to new information and kicked himself for giving into memories so easily.

Eventually though, he adjusted.  There was only so much he could do and there was no use in spending his time leaping around like a cat in a box of bubble wrap.  All of that made the sounds of the door flying open during one visit particularly harrowing, especially with Dick’s voice following after.

 

Cass worked through describing and showing him a pressure point technique previously unknown to Tim when the door flew open.  Dick stood there, staring at the pair, his face going colorless.  Instantly it felt as if all the air was forcibly dragged from boy wonder’s lungs.

“What are you doing here?” Dick’s voice was a tight coil of rage and confusion barely restrained.

Even though Tim had grown to think of the former Robin as almost a brother his tone made him lurch back.  Never before had he been the focus of Dick’s fury and even the held back laser beam made him doubt his very placement in the vigilante world.

The older man marched towards the pair, his hands clenched and his jaw tight.  He stopped short of the chairs the two occupied.  What kept Tim from trying to outright become one with his chair was the pressure of Cass’s hand on his arm.  Her eyes shown bright as she stared Dick down.  Tim guessed this skill either came from confidence or Cain’s training because he lacked both at this moment.

“Because they deserve to know each other,” she spoke as if the situation was simple enough, but everyone could tell the mess of emotions made it tangled and uncertain.

From his reaction Tim would place bets on Nightwing bursting a blood vessel soon.  “What gives you the right?” He spat out, his hands now shaking.

“Barbara agrees with me, but what gives you the right to take away them knowing each other.  They are part of each other’s lives no matter what, the least we should do is help both understand,” Cass stood as she spoke with conviction, as if challenging Dick to argue that his current heated state knew better for Jason.

In utter awe Tim stared up at her, his heart racing.  She went toe to toe with a pissed off Dick without batting an eyelash, all over him.  He felt speechless, but he knew what he had to do.  On shaking legs he stood up beside her, forcing himself to meet the the bright blue eyes of the man he looked up to for so long.

“I want to be here… I want to get to know him, to try and show I’m not just some punk kid filling in a spot. It was spending my child watching you, Jason, and Bruce sore around the city that helped show me I can do so much with my desire to help people.  I’m trying to do what I think… you and maybe even Jason would.  I’m trying to do what I would expect myself to do as a.. as a hero.”

Dick stared at him, breathing heavily before he forced out a long puff.  “I’ll be back, I need to walk around.”  His voice sounded strained and the way he slowly flexed his fingers showed the muscles still clenched up on him.

Once Dick left the room Tim collapsed back in his chair, looking up to find Cass smiling down at him as if he glowed like the sun.

“I’m proud of you. It takes a lot to find the right words.”

Slowly Tim smiled too, “Yeah… yeah it does.”

They sat in silence for what felt like decades before the door softly opened and Dick walked back into the room, his head down and hands in his pockets.  It took him a moment, but finally met Cass’s eyes first then Tim’s.

“I overreacted, let my emotions get the best of me. Jason has always… well been a tender spot,” Dick admitted as he moved to lean against the hospital bed facing the others.  “I guess… I guess I wasn’t ready to just open up this part of our life, to share him when we’ve tried so hard to protect him.”

Cass and Tim let him speak his piece, both understanding the need to express long buried feelings.  Without a doubt trying to find the right words was a struggle in its own right.  Part of Tim just wanted the words to soothe the hole he felt from before, for this to be some magical remedy that will make him feel like he truly belongs.

“You deserved, well you deserved to find out from Bruce and I at the very least. Cass shouldn’t have been the only one to have enough sense to see it. You’ve done so much for us, for the city, hell Bruce most of all, you actually saved him. You deserve our trust in this… when we’ve trusted you otherwise.”

All of the air rushed out of Tim’s lungs and he gave a shaky smile, “Thank you… it’s really appreciated. I really don’t mean any harm by my presence.”

Dragging a chair to sit on the other side of him, Dick gave an apologetic smile, “You didn’t, you just gave a very needed reality check. No matter how much Bruce and I wish to protect him we can’t keep him bubbled, especially not from our own lives.  It was just… well a shock honestly.  Sometimes it still feels like I’m getting the news about Jason all over again, and then to see you in the same room with him, especially since the Clench… It just triggered everything back, all the ways I wasn’t enough of a big brother to either of you no matter how irrational that is.”

“You’re here, you’re trying… that’s, well that’s more than either of us could probably ask for.”

With the knowledge that both Cass and Tim had become frequent visitors to the hospital Dick seemed to carve more time out of his Gotham visits to spend it with them at Jason’s side.  Blüdhaven kept him busy enough, but from what they could tell, he got some relief in telling Jason more and more about his life then before.

At first just his presence made the visits that Tim had originally found almost therapeutic and turned them into a strange unknown thing.  He didn’t feel comfortable anymore, not at first.  Over the next couple months the immense pressure began to back off, again Jason became a safe space for him to share the things he sometimes never knew were on his chest.

The upheaval, however whatever magnitude, showed him how much more he relied on his training sessions with Cass. They had common ground and comfortable expectations and clear goals, an oasis in the chaos that was their normal lives.  Even with how hard the work was, how much he pushed himself, the burning sensation in his muscles and the smile on Cass’s face gave him a sense of achievement.

His sheer determination had made her give him cooling down days where they worked on lower key techniques so she could assure herself that he wouldn’t push himself to breaking in wanting to do everything at its best.  When not working through training exercises she still caught herself staring at his hands, and he noticed too.

“Question.”

“42.” That answer got him silence and a head tilt which was satisfaction enough. “No, seriously, go ahead.”

“Can you still see your string?”

Tim silently went through his stretches for a moment, his eyes fixed on his finger.  “Yeah, it still shows up pretty regularly.”

“Still barely holding on…?”

Shaking his head, he continued through the motions.  “To be honest for a while now it’s been looking better and better. It’s a slow progress but it’s still there.  It gives me hope to see that it can get back to normal after everything, so maybe I’ll be okay no matter what…”

A small smile crossed her lips, “I’m glad you have that.”  For a long while they sat in silence, making sure even their low key training wouldn’t hinder them for their next patrol.

“You still not see anything? It’s perfectly normal to not see one at all. You could just not be able or not have one, both are okay.”

“I know… It’s just another… oddity,” she frowned as she spoke, unsure exactly about how she felt about this thing.  “And still nothing about other types of threads for, uh.. other loves?”

Stopping and walking over to Cass, Tim made sure to hold her gaze.  “Is it really bothering you?”

Cass couldn’t help but frown more as she tried to find the right words, starting to chew her lip and glance away.  Now an overwhelming feeling of insecurity washed over her.

“Hold on.”  Tim raised a finger and trotted over to his bag and began rummaging through it.  “I had a feeling it might be something that would eat away at you. Ah ha! Found it!”  When he turned back around his face was lit up with a brilliant smile, in his hands laid a ball of yellow yarn.  Carefully he worked his way back to her and sat on his legs in front of her.  With complete concentration he began to let loose some of it while untangling a pair of scissors he’d tucked in with it.  “Hold out your hand, pinky towards me.”

Utter confusion Cass, but she listened to Tim and stuck her hand straight out.  Gingerly he looped the yarn around her pinky, making sure that it didn’t constrict blood flow when he tied it.  With just as much precision and focus he began to wrap it around his own pinky.  The boy wonder cut off their connection to the main ball and smiled at her.

“Who needs some mystical mumbo jumbo when we’ve got each other and the real deal?” Tim looked utterly delighted at her, proud of his idea.  Her silence and the way she didn’t look away from string wrapped around her finger started to make him anxious though.

Out of the blue, she tackled him to the mats in a tight hug, burying her face in his shoulder to hide her watering eyes.  Tim managed to catch her mumble despite how muffled it was, “Nerd…”

After cutting the connecting part of their string, the pair continued to wear them on their fingers for a while.  To protect them though, they eventually tucked them away in pockets and wallets to save them from everyday wear and tear and thug punching.  Both of them cherished their own strings of fate more than anything else.  Tim’s chest tightened with joy whenever he caught Cass staring at the ring of yarn, or watched her reach for it in her pocket.  For the current Robin and Batgirl it brought nothing but comfort.

Somehow they were brought closer together than before, their connecting string allowing them to lean on each other when their lives somehow got harder and more complicated.  With time, Cass tried to explain to him what she noticed that made her able to read people’s bodies so well, and Tim started to show her his photo collection, including those of Batman and Robin when he was young.

   

 

Their visits stayed consistent, and if anything got more personal.  Both of them became more willing to share bits of their own thoughts and feelings to Jason, and Tim even began to show up alone.  None of these were a source of complaint in Jason’s mind.  He wanted some time to get to know the current Robin without the influence of other people around.

Ever since the incident with Dick he’d wanted to get a better understanding of his successor as it became evident he’d barely scratched the surface.  Shock was the first thing to sink in at what happened between Dick and Tim, to know Dick thought of him like that made his heart ache, but seeing this determined side of Tim made him grin with some sort of pride.  That was Robin standing up against all odds.

When they were alone he got the insight that he longed for.  A Drake stood at his side, but not the typical upper class child.  One who had a broken neglectful home and spent his childhood roaming even the darkest, dirtiest parts of Gotham.  Tim shared to him the burden of his failures, his feelings of insecurity, his close brushes with death.  Somehow he even managed to share how he followed around Jay and Bruce and taken pictures, all while finding out who they were.  That part Jason still marveled at, especially how uncomfortable it made Tim to admit it.  It could only mean in there a part of the story got held back for some reason that Tim wouldn’t want him to know.

One of his favorite parts of Tim’s visits was when he retold some of his D&D adventures, not only could the boy tell a yarn, but his vibrant storytelling always made Jason feel like he actually sat in the middle of action especially since his voice seemed to ring through the can to Jason’s mind clearer than ever.  When he finally woke up he promised himself to make this kid explain to him how it all worked and help him in becoming a part of it.

One of the things he hated about the visits stemmed from how often he found himself stuck in his own thoughts afterwards, like as more time passed he creeped more inward and maybe over time his connection to the tin can might not be able to pull him out of the fog that surrounded him.  Terror filled him whenever the thought crossed his mind, even when the red string seemed more put together and less like it went through the same explosion and beating as he did.  A part of him couldn’t ignore that it felt like the fog got denser and came so close to swallowing him whole.

Again he drowned in this morose thought process that seemed to consume him more often than not, despite the lull of Tim’s voice in the background as he absentmindedly weaved the red string between his fingers.  This time Tim didn’t bring him out of it.

“What are you doing here.”  It was if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over Jason as he jerked upright, gasping for breath as he clutched his heart.  Bruce.  Bruce’s voice boomed around him for the first time since he entered this state, and it sliced him straight through.  Nowhere in that voice existed a trace of warmth, and if Jay wasn’t mistaken maybe a few hints of anger sat there.  Tears slowly made their way down his cheeks as he struggled for air, forcing himself to listen, to not get dragged into all the memories of the man who took him off the streets.

“I… Bruce… I’m sorry…”  To anyone in the room it should be clear that Tim was trying to find a way to explain how this all started and calm him down at the same time.  To Jason, he started to find it hard that visits to his hospital room would bring such a reaction.

“You shouldn't be here.  You don’t have permission or the right to be here.”

At those words the hair on Jason’s neck stood on end and his fists clenched as his arm swiped at his cheeks.  “Permission? Right?” Jason snarled through clenched teeth as he spoke into the tin can.  “I am not your personal encased source of torment and grief! You don’t get to encase me and then play keep away from everyone else because you can’t deal with your own fucking emotions!”  His whole body shook as everything overwhelmed him again.

“Is that all I am to you?! A source of failure you’d rather keep in a dark corner so you have an excuse to keep up the angst?! You can’t keep me away from the one person who forced you out of that dark hole you apparently were in just so you can have some tiny place to keep it all up! I want the light of Robin back in my life! Don’t take it from me Bruce… Don’t take it from him…” Again tears fell down his face as clutched desperately at the tin can as he was racked with violent sobs.

“...I won’t apologize.”

“What.” Bruce demanded sharply.

“I won’t apologize, I won’t apologize for wanting to know more about what Robin is, and for my existence or who I am, especially not to this family.  I came into this because of Robin, because of Jason.  You knew full well I would end up here, and he deserves as much as the rest of you.  You can’t hold him up like a personal shrine belonging to a kindergartner who doesn’t like to share!  It’s not his costume in the case, he’s a human being and one day he’ll wake up and he deserves to know that the ones after him care just as much as the ones before!”

Somewhere in Tim’s speech Jason’s eyes dried, somewhere in the passion of his voice and the underlying tone of anxiety he tried to stop himself from hyperventilating.  Jay stared in awe at the string as he tried to swallow and recollect himself.

“I want to meet you someday…” his voice cracked a bit and he coughed, attempting to clear traces of his breakdown.  “Anyone who likened B to a five year old while he was pissed, upset… whatever, I can dig…”

He waited in silence for Bruce’s response with almost as much apprehension as he expected Tim currently felt.

“...We’ll discuss this after patrol. Don’t be late.”  Before Tim could respond the slamming of the door echoed through.

“Really?!  That’s how you end it you big galloping emotionally constipated Mystacina Miocenalis! I hope either you or Tim tells Alfred and he knocks some sense into you!” Jason shook the tin can in frustration has he breathed heavily.  “I’m sorry Tim… I’m sorry…”

“Well… he said I had patrol still so I guess I didn’t yank his tail too badly…” Tim managed to laugh out.

Jason sat down more comfortably, letting air whoosh out of him, “I’ve got no idea how you’re able to stay an optimist in this business, but… don’t ever let that change.”

After Tim left he waited on pins and needles to hear how things went, occupying his time with musing if the desire to smack Bruce a few times could spur someone out of a coma.  Thankfully this time around he didn’t feel himself sucked back into the fog as he waited for some sort of contact with Tim and the outside world.  According to Tim he’d been right, Alfred got to Bruce before anything else could be done.

Time blurred together things again for him, the muffled sounds growing fuzzy and faint as he struggled to keep his hold on the outside work between Tim’s visits. Too many times for Jason’s liking he found himself immersed in thoughts of what the others were doing, how Bruce had handled his injuries, and how Tim struggled with his father’s and Bruce’s actions.  Each time he found it harder to pull himself out, harder for even the string and tin can to act as his anchor.

A harsh noises brought him out though, it confused him until he recognized it, crying.  Tim was crying, it was the only explanation on why it sounded as if the noises was beside him.  Jay couldn’t remember a point in time he’d ever heard the other boy like this.

“They’re dead… they’re all dead… Jason… my friends, Conner… Bart… Steph…, my dad… they’re gone...”

In one moment, Jason could feel his heart break, like this he was utterly helpless to Tim.  He couldn’t tell him it would eventually be fine, he couldn’t hold him close, he had no way to comfort the young man who had provided so much comfort to him in his place of isolation.

“I know you can’t hear me… and I know it doesn’t amount to much, but you’re never as alone as you think you are no matter what your brain is telling you. I’m so sorry Tim…” He took a deep breath and tried to smile, “At least you know I’ll always be here, it’s not like you’ll come in one day and I’m joyriding down the freeway.  What an image that’d be, can you just picture the headlines? ‘Teenager in coma for blasted ever pulls a miracle car heist! Police can not charge him because—now here’s the kicker—local teen is still in coma!’ I’d be a regular medical mystery,” he joked, imagining that would crack a smile on Tim’s face despite everything.

For once they sat in silence, and despite it eating away at him, Jason forced himself to stay calm, to wait it out in hopes the next noise would bring some sign of hope.

“Thanks Jay… I’ll see you soon…”

If he couldn’t comfort him, at least he could provide an ear to listen and a shoulder to lean on.  He was someone Tim wouldn’t have to worry would judge or anything.  Maybe one day he would be able to do that without being in a hospital bed unconscious.

 

Nothing after so much death felt the same, for neither Tim nor Cass.  They both had lost a friend on top of all the tragedies that had happened.  Their training stayed the same, more out of a need for stability then something either of them had their hearts in.  Nowadays they both wore their yellow strings, a small comfort that their connection went on even if they didn’t feel they would.

Punctuality was something Cass exhibited in her normal life, especially in her training time with Tim, be it physical or her reading.  But a last minute errand for Babs had her rushing back to the clocktower to restock the fridge before rushing off to meet Tim up in one of the many training facilities.

But the life they lived left timeliness a hard virtue to perfect, even when out and about as a civilian themselves.  A scream had caught her attention and within a moment she raced towards the alleyway, placing the groceries down at the mouth of it and heading in without a second thought.  At a glance Cass could tell seven men were attempting to mug and maybe worse the singular woman backed up against the alley wall.

First thing within reach became an easy projectile, garbage can’s were wonderful that way in her opinion.  Versatile in both attack and defense, worked long range and short, and in a city like Gotham you could toss a thug and they’d crash into five of them.  To her utter joy it connected squarely against a man’s head to rebound and stun his buddy besides him.

Their shock only lasted so long but she took full advantage of it, already she ducked under another man to sweep his legs out from under him and popped back up to kick the other next to him against the wall.

“Run now before I make you beg like teenage boys.” She smirked confidently at them as she positioned herself between them and the woman.  They looked at her in confusion before yelling angrily and charging at her.

She never grasped why people like them wouldn’t try to save themselves the broken bones when they already saw how easily she took their comrades out.  Maybe they thought saftey in numbers, but if she hadn’t been taken out by all of Gotham’s numbers by then she doubted another three mangey goons would make a difference.

One lunged at her with all the grace of bug hitting a light bulb, with similar results.  A swift palm strike to his nose had him on the ground shrieking and undoubtedly seeing stars.  While that happened another of the group attempted to be clever and attempted to snag the woman again.  Cass reacted faster than he expected, sticking her arm out to block him.  His grip tightened around her wrist, making it almost impossible to just yank straight out.  Cupping her hand, she assisted the situation by bringing it up against the man’s ear at the same time as she yanked hard.  In a pitiful last stand, the only upright member of the group gave a small yell before coming straight at her, he all but ran into her kick.

As she checked on the woman, the thugs who could keep standing for more than a moment stumbled their way out of the alley as sirens whirled in the air approaching fast.  When she looked down at her hand her whole world froze.  The yellow ring of yarn no longer sat on her finger.

Everything dropped away as she dropped to the ground searching for any hint of the vibrant yellow amongst the grunge of alleyway slime.  She stayed as long as she risked it with the police almost there, but somehow found the strength to tear herself from the ground, pick up her bags, and get herself back up to the clocktower.  Tim stood in the main section, worry etched across his face as she walked in dazed.

“What happened to you?”  The fear was plain in his voice as he rushed forward, took the groceries, and began to examine her for injuries.  She hadn’t realized tears streaked her cheeks.

Words wouldn’t come as she held out the hand where the yarn belonged on, but she knew he would understand as he held her close, her grubby fingers gripping into his tank top.  “I’m sorry Tim… I’m… I’m so sorry…”

Gingerly he led her into the kitchen and sat her down before setting her down in a chair and starting to work on cleaning her hands.  They sat in silence for so long she began to feel the hot flow of tears again from worry she might have added to his grief.

“You know, as much as the yarn’s important it… well it isn’t,” Tim looked up at her as he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully.  “The rings… they were just a symbol.  They just showed us a tangible version of something that will always be there.  We don’t need them to prove we’ll always be connected.” His hand rested on her’s as he gave it a squeeze.

Sniffling loudly, Cass nodded, knowing in her heart he was correct.  Lifting her hand to squeeze back, she froze.  To her utter disbelief glimmering faintly in the kitchen light she saw a flicker of yellow wrapped around her finger to lead out towards Tim’s.

“Yeah… we’re gonna be okay…” A small smile crossed her lips.

 

Nowadays, Jason didn’t seem to get along with his environment.  Every moment the fog seemed more oppressive, but he wasn’t sure if that was because it pushed more now or only recently he’d started to truly fight against it.  To make matters worse the clarity of Tim’s voice had become infrequent and now nonexistent.  It wasn’t that whatever caused him to radiate in Jason’s mind had stopped, he just no longer showed up or at least to Jay’s mind he didn’t.  He regularly cursed his inability to perceive time as he felt foolish freaking out over something when only a few days might have passed instead of the suffocating months it felt like.

During this time he caught himself staring more at the red string that lead somewhere into the thick grey surroundings.  Before it had been too fragile to follow out, but now it was whole.  Theoretically it had to lead somewhere, somewhere better than where he currently sat.

“God damn it!” Jason stood up suddenly, “Jason Mother Fucking Peter Todd does not wait by the phone for anything, or well tin can in this situation, but that’s beside the point!”  He clutched the metal object like the lifeline it was, then grasped the red string firmly in hand before starting to move along it as he coiled it up as he went.

Before he started a slightly muffled voice floated in the background, now as he marched on through his own personal never-ending wasteland it seemed to grow louder and louder as his legs seemed to trudge through solidifying cement.  Pressure seemed to increase too, along with the feeling that his whole body was weighed down by Jupiter’s gravity instead of anything on Earth.

Without a moment’s notice, Jason became blinded by both light and sound.  His breathing became labored and almost impossible as he squinted his eyes closed.  Despite the harsh surroundings, he forced his eyes open and himself to adjust.

A hand reached out, not one he recognized in the slightest, but he couldn’t forget the face it reached for or the hands that soon clasped around it.

Tears shone brightly in the man’s eyes as he smiled down at him, “Doctor, Nurse, come quick! Jason… Jason I’m right here, it’s okay. Jason it’ll all be okay,” Bruce spoke reassuringly to him as the world exploded into more chaos than before.

Everything after that happened so fast it blurred together, all Jason knew was that now he was awake, a breathing tube had caused his inability to breath, his muscles had atrophied so it was a miracle he rose his arm at all, and years had passed.  The body that they told him was his no longer looked like him, but he guessed that’s what happens when puberty comes when one’s unconscious.  He wondered if growth spurts could be bought if one had enough money.

Right from the beginning, as soon as they ran all the needed tests, he found himself placed in isolation which he honestly couldn’t complain about.  Everything just overwhelmed him, even as Bruce explain what had been happening since the explosion he felt like his head would burst.  The helplessness despite his pre-existing knowledge just added to his frustration with his situation.

Next they eased him into seeing both Dick and Barbara, a hard task in its own right.  Together they tried to slowly catch him up on history, culture, and technology.  He’d gather some of it through the comments throughout the years, but it was another thing to actually see them for himself.  As they spoke he mulled over telling them about the string and how Tim made it so he could actually hear all of them, they probably would believe him but it didn’t feel right telling them this before he even saw the face of the person who had given him a lifeline.

According to the doctor’s he had to take it slow and give himself time to process before starting physical therapy.  All Jason could take that statement as was that they’d never worked with someone like him before.  To the protests of everyone in the building he insisted on going straight into rehabilitation.

Only one person backed him, and if he could only choose one it’d be her.  Babs had stared at him for a while as he forced his face to stay determined instead shaking apart in fear that she would call him a stupid little boy.  He should have known better.

Barbara smiled softly at him.  “It’s going to hurt like hell, but it’s going to be worth it.  It’s going to be worse because you have to relearn how to function with every part of your body, you won’t have the use of anything to fall back on.  But I’ll hold you to it, I won’t let you fall farther then you need to fall.  Bruce and Dick will bristle but only because they worry, they’ll support you nonetheless.  Soon you’ll meet Cass and Tim too, so they’ll be there to catch you when you need it.”

“I know…” He looked down at his hands, willing them to do something other than twitch.

To his shock she slid a soft stress ball into his palm.  “I talked to my trainer, he said to this is a good small way to start. Just imagine it’s the big guy’s head when he used to tell you off,” the older woman joked as she smiled kindly at him.

A new fire lit under him, he pushed passed any feelings that he had woken up to a broken body to focus on the body he would create.  He would show the world the sort of man he would become despite Joker taking years from him.

Within a few months of intense physical therapy the hospital begrudgingly agreed to let him continue on his work in Wayne Manor.  Of course, he knew Bruce would get him the best therapists out there and outfit the Manor with anything he would need and slowly he began to get just how much Bruce had missed him.  It was one thing hearing it from others’ lips, another to see how he fretted and fussed about him.

Babs set him up with the best powered wheelchair out there and walked him through all the improvements she set up for his defense.  Gotham had become more dangerous since he last remembered, and even the Waynes more of a target.  If they hadn’t shown him proof he’d have found it hard to believe.  Even with a more pressing sense of danger his city needed him, and he wanted to feel the wind in his hair again, the lurch in his stomach in that second before his next line shot out.  He knew his wouldn’t happen soon, but if the hell his mind had become hadn’t stopped him this wouldn’t either.

Despite finally existing outside of his mind, his brain still hardly grasped how much time slipped through his fingers.  Both looking back and currently he struggled to feel the waves erode away at him.  Sometimes that made getting back in shape hard; unless he had someone else or a set timer he often spent too much time on a task and wore his body out.  He forced himself to push through the searing pain during those times to cool down so his muscles wouldn’t seize up and undo all his previous work.

If Babs was around, she’d work him through the cool downs while chiding him about how if he kept doing this he won’t last, Bruce would stare worriedly at him but say nothing, and Dick would help without reprimanding him which Jay was grateful for.  Unfortunately, when Alfred caught him it only took a glare to subdue him.

He barely made it near the chair one of time’s, breathing heavy as he tried to fight back  the searing pain and his screaming muscles.

“You’re gonna tear something that way.”

Jason froze, he hadn’t even heard the door open.  Slowly he looked up to see a young man leaning against the closed door, his eyes working over the former Robin quickly as he studies the scene.  Not leaving time for excuses he marched forward and began to rearrange Jason’s limbs.

“What?! What the hell? Stop! Who are you?!”

At the words stop the young man’s hands went off him and he was met with intense blue eyes.  “Sorry. I’m Tim. Please, let me help. I could hear you from the hallway and I know some ways that will alleviate the pain.”

When not in agony his brain he would process things better, but just then all Jay could manage was a nod of his head.

The nerves in his legs lit up as Tim’s slender fingers began to apply a small amount of pressure.  “I ended up having a really good knack at medicinal pressure points but I don’t really get to use it a lot.  When I heard that you woke up I asked my stepmum what would be some of the best ways to help you regain strength but also relieve pain. I took what I knew and what she told me and squished it into one thing.”

Jason bit his lip as he fought through the initial pain, but as Tim worked he began to feel some sense of relief.  “How would she know about this… stuff…?” he managed out.

“She used to be a physical therapist, and I mean, I dunno it made her feel useful to have me asking her questions like that.”

“Does she... not normally?” He grunted out.

“Well it’s sorta hard to feel useful when you’re in a psychiatric hospital for having a mental breakdown,” Tim stated nonchalantly.

Finally the pieces clicked into place.  The voice, the family he just spoke of, Tim, this was the Tim from the other side of his tin can.  “You!”

Tim all but fell over as he tried to realign himself with a different section of muscle, his eyes wild and confused as he stared back at Jay.  “What?!”

“You’re Tim!”

“Yes?!”

“Your D&D character is the nerdiest most badass thing in the world!”

“...What?!?”  He was long past confusion and now gawked in bewilderment with an underlying hint of fear.

Slowly his outburst sunk in, and Jason realized he had painted himself into a corner.  No matter what he had to explain how he knew that, either through the truth or risk lying.  He could say Dick or Barbara provided the info even though he didn’t know if either had reason to know.  Here before him stood the young man who brought some sanity into his world and the first things out of his mouth might as well be gobbledy gook.  He wanted to smack himself for having the sort of disconnect between his brain and mouth you normally see on teenage boys at the first sight of getting lucky.

“I… It’s a long story…”

Tentatively Tim approached him again, “Could… could you hear us…?”

“Keep moving  your hands and I’ll be able to think better?”

“It’s… it’s helping…?”

“No I just like the way you cup my thighs, when I’m in excruciating pain, yes it’s helping,” Jason snapped without meaning to.

In no time flat Tim’s hands were back on him, working slowly at the tight muscles.  “Maybe if you weren’t such a stubborn grouch you wouldn’t need this…” he muttered under his breath.

“Hey that’s Mr. Stubborn Grouch to you,” he laughed breathily, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Tim’s lips quirk up in a smile.  He’d think about that later when he had more higher functioning power.

“Everything in there was muffled, like I was underwater but not.  I couldn’t grasp sentences, sometimes words.  Then suddenly a voice cut through the fog and the other voices around it were made actually understandable. I… I think that voice was yours…”

Tim stared at him with a look on his face Jason couldn’t exactly interpret and that drove him bonkers.  “Why me…?”

“I’m not sure… but-Ahh!” Jason felt his whole body spasm as a tiny amount of pressure caused a particularly tight bunch of muscles to tense up.

“Sorry sorry…” Tim hurriedly applied pressure to a spot and suddenly a tingling sensation passed over Jason and the sweat began to cool on his skin.  For the rest of the time the third Robin worked on his muscles as they sat in silence.  For the life of him Jay couldn’t have said how long the process took, a million years felt the best estimate.

To his utter surprise, Tim was able to manage helping him into the chair without any problem at all.  Somewhere underneath the massively baggy hoodie and sweatpants really existed the honed muscles needed to kick crime in the face in scaly panties and pixie boots.

“There any way… I can get you to do this… every time I do therapy..? My PT guys are good but… damn… not this good,” Jason muttered almost to himself.

“Well I do have school so I can’t probably show up all the time. You secure?”

“Yeah, yeah. Wait.. would you really?” The older man looked up at Tim, his brow creasing.

“On one condition, you actually explain to me what you were talking about… that is, if you’re comfortable.”

Time creeped by again as Jason just stared at him for a while, mulling over his chances and if he was really willing to reveal so much of what happened to him while in there.  “Okay yeah… deal…”

 

This time around, no one gave any problems when Tim began to spend a large amount of time with Jason.  Most of them were more than impressed that he went the extra mile to help out and willingly did his own training exercises alongside the other.  Tim was glad for the privacy, or the almost privacy when Cass was with them.  Having spent so much time talking to him in a coma, Tim felt the need to know who Jason truly was.  The fascination permeated every inch of his body and made him itch for their next meeting.

Every word out of his mouth captivated the young man, no matter how seemingly ridiculous it sounded.  So much happened in their line of work it made believers of the impossible out of even the most stubborn.

Suspended on the uneven bars, Tim dared a look over at Jason working slowly at free weights.  “I have a question.”

“Shoot Timbo, all little distraction will be nice with this infuriating pace.”

Tim shook his head, Jay’s mind had so much catch up to do, it must be trying.  “What’d you think about me.. me becoming Robin?”

The clank of the weights being set down made the younger still in his routine for a beat before regaining himself and pushing onwards.  “For a while there I couldn’t believe I’d been replaced, that Bruce would go out and find a squirt to stick in the scaly panties.  But the more I heard you talk though, the more I realized that… Robin’s always needed no matter how hurt I felt.  I wanted to be angry at you so badly cause that was so much easier than dealing with the pain from having this brilliant shining future that belonged to me, taken away, having Robin taken away.  Couldn’t though, I shouted and screamed and wished for things to throw but I couldn’t hate you, not when I heard how much Robin meant to you.  I mean, Christ, you were itty bitty tracking us over rooftops!”

At that Tim, had to stop entirely and sit down to keep himself from falling over laughing, “Could you forget that last part?”

“Not in a million years.”

Sighing dramatically, Tim smiled at Jason, “I’m glad though… I was, well, scared that when you woke you’d want nothing to do with me.  I’d never blame you for it.”  For a moment the silence hung as he mulled over his next words, unaware of how much to confide in his predecessor now that he was conscious.  “I know how it feels though, to have Robin taken from you before you were ready…”  All that got him was obviously confused silence.  “You know the little brat?”

“The one who won’t say a word to me and just stares?”

“Yup.  He’s Robin now.”

“Whoa wait hold on. You’re not Robin anymore?!”

Never before had Tim been thankful for solid ground underneath him.  He opened his big mouth and his blind desire stopped him from seeing the direction his admission would lead.  It took him a while to get words out before he gave up and chugged half his bottle of water and dared a look at Jason.  He looked disconcerted and mildly worried.

“I’m... I’m not Robin anymore.  It’s a long story, one you should hear both side on at a different time, but… I took up another identity…”

“Jeez man…” Jay shook his head slightly.  “So what are you then? Flying Rat Boy?”

“No… Red Robin…”

He would have given his first roll of film to read Jason’s face, to get some sort of understanding on how long he’d have to stay away before receiving forgiveness for the amount of line he crossed.

“Why that…?”

Tim openly stared for a whole minute before forcing himself into gear again and manage to open his mouth, “When it first happened I went searching Bruce’s office for clues about his disappearance, I wanted something to grab on to since I just lost Robin… I found a notebook and leafed through it quickly. That’s when I saw your first Robin designs, farther in I saw notes and pictures concerning another identity.  I could tell you had done it later then the first entry, a lot more effort was put into it and a lot more knowledge of what you’d actually need to make it out of. For some reason I just… I couldn’t look away. Next thing I knew I’d found another piece of paper and was drawing up a redesign.  Somewhere in your original drawing… I found the connection I needed.  I found the way to preserve and honor Robin, you, but also maybe move on from under the banner.”

This time the silence didn’t eat away at Tim, this time he knew he gave Jay a lot to process and he needed time to really go over how he felt about Tim taking his idea after Robin and making it his own while still a homage.

“I’m… I’m glad it helped…” His voice sounded strained as he spoke, but after clearing it he got it under control again. “That it didn’t collect dust on a shelf, but Timmy you gotta know something.”

Tim hummed his inquiry, afraid that if he used his voice it’d give out.

“When I get back into fighting shape I get to give it a whirl. I get to move on from Robin.”

That managed to make Tim smile.  He had fall back designs now, identities he’d planned out for different paths of his life.  He’d more than willingly hand the chance over to his hero.  “I’ll hold you to that.”

 

One day, when Jason Peter Todd grew up, he hoped he’d become someone like Cassandra Cain and maybe, if he was lucky, be her.  The first time they met his jaw drop, he could tell at a glance she screamed powerhouse.  The first training exercise he saw her and Tim complete left him in a state of shock.  They moved with the precision of masters of a honed craft, like people who knew each other’s bodies so well they could anticipate the other’s moves before they were executed.  It made Jason’s heart hammer straight out of his chest.  When it turned out Cass truly could look at another person and read their body like an open book, he just found another reason to adore her.

The pair had a tendency to make his heart race, and Cass seemed well aware of that fact.  He always caught her looking at him with a knowing smirk when either she or Tim did something particularly miraculous and endearing.

Jason wanted to give thanks to every deity out there that she wasn’t around when had Tim told him about his new identity.  The whole world had felt off its axis as the words sank in, his second identity honored the freedom Jason had wanted and the tradition he still fell back on.  Tim had breathed into life his teenage dreams of heroism.  Struggling for words, Jason had felt his chest tighten while Tim’s explanation sunk in.  

Even hours later he laid in bed struggling for sleep while his mind still buzzed with Tim’s words and the look on his face.

“Why does this mean so much to me…?”  Jason whispered aloud, raising his arm above him slowly.  They’d focused on his arm and core strengthening first, allowing him to come a long way from barely able to control grip for more than a few seconds.

Above him, a glint of color caught in the light filtering through his shades.  A red string trailed from around his finger down into the darkness of his room.  If the tightness in his chest ached before, it felt nothing like the way he gasped in breaths and gripped at his heart.  The entire time he’d been gone he never thought he would catch sight of his connection again.  The more he stared at it though, the more he wondered if he’d had it with him the entire time.

“Is this… a crush…? Can I really associate this to what I felt back in school…? Rena was the closest thing, but this is more, so much more then that,” the young man mused aloud as he pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes.  “I better work on my writing if I’m gonna start scribbling his name all over notebooks…”

Over the next couple of weeks Jay mulled over the possibility of Tim being at the other end of his string, and the more he thought it over, the more he wanted it to be true.  Finally, on one of Cass’s visits to the Manor alone, he pulled her aside.

“It’s about Tim, isn’t it.” She grinned at him knowingly, a glint in her eyes he didn’t exactly like.

“How did you-”

“You’ve been fidgety and staring at him more. Besides, sisters know.”

“I’m gonna ignore the vast implications of that and chose to sleep better at night knowing you’re watching me and also having deniability.  How many years are there between us?”  Jason massaged his forehead, already feeling the tension building in him.

“Three years.”

“Oh okay, that’s not that bad then.  It’s not like we’re insanely older then each other.”

Cass stayed silent for a while, just staring at him in a way that started to make his skin itch.  “How old are you?”

“Uh… well I was fifteen when I last remember the real world, so I’m gonna guess seventeen?”

“No one’s told you?”

Jason gave a noncommittal shrug, “They keep say it’s been longer then I think, not an exact age or time. I think they’re trying to protect my fragile constitution.”

“You are twenty.”

First he frowned, opened his mouth to speak, then immediately closed it.  “No wonder things are so weird…”

Cass nodded and patted his shoulder. “Tim’s seventeen.”

“God damn explosive clowns and my stupid dead zoned ass! I’ve got the mind of a sixteen year old and he’s underage?!”  The former vigilante proceeded to have a melt-down in his chair.

“Don’t worry too much. He will be eighteen soon, you have time to woo him before then.”

Slightly pouting, he shot a glare at the young woman, “And how about him wooing me?”

“He had you when he ranted about the Library of Alexandria.” She patted the top of his head as if he’d asked her the most obvious question in the world, and walked away.

“I’m more complicated than that!”

Jason heard her laugh and call over her shoulder, “Nope! Nerd!”

After some careful deliberation, he decided to take her words to heart.  It was one thing to know a lot about Tim’s life because he heard it in a coma, it was another beast all together to have him actually regularly confide things not directly related to the two of them.  He wanted to be there for Tim, and not as a blank wall to talk at then walk away.

Later that week Jay cooled down from his stretches while Tim practiced with a cape he’d fiddled with the weighting of.

“Why are you moving like that?”

“Hm?” Tim looked at him, but he could tell he held only half his attention, his mind still focused on why he couldn’t get the landing the way he wanted.

“You’re moving like you should be doing it this way, not like your body actually wants to move that way.”

Tim huffed and sent him a glare that had zero power behind it.  “It’s new of course I’m going to have issues with it.”

“So why are you trying to do this new thing when you have a newly weighted cape to adjust to already?” Jason prodded.  Already Tim had explained the cape, he was testing a new lighter, more durable, more resistant material.  This meant a new balance of weights came with it, which meant lots of work acclimating before it was ready to take out to smack thugs with.

“It’s a technique I’ve seen Dick use with a similar style of fabric, I want to see how effective it would be on this.”

“Tim, Timmy, Timbo, Timmers, why are you doing this to yourself?”

“What are you going on about?” the younger man snapped, frustration getting the better of him.

“Chill my poofed up screech owl.”  Jason paused.  “Nah, on second thought you’re more like a greater sooty owl.” Jason tapped his chin as if this was something he mulled over regularly.

“Wait.. what?”  It had its desired effect, Tim now stared at him in utter confusion with his frustration waning.

“You’re an owl, but that’s besides the point. Why I brought it up was cause you’re trying to move like the circus brat, none of us can do that. We don’t walk on thin air like he does. Take his technique and put it to your strengths.”

Leaning against his bo staff, Tim cocked his head, “And how do you suppose I do that oh masterful master?”

He chose to ignore that comment and rolled his eyes.  “Try shifting your hips and shoulders like they’re in sync and not like you’ve got to control each part separately. Keep it simple and lethal.”

“I’m lethal?”  That really made the young hero’s eyebrows raise.

“Without a doubt, now I’ll help you from the sidelines if you’ll actually listen to me. Oh, and don’t play dumb you know your power.”

That earned him a smirk, “Shut up, what does your comaed ass know about my power?”

“That it takes a lot to shout back at B, trust me, I’ve got a lot building up from my long winter's nap,” Jason laughed as he moved over to the mats Tim worked on.  “Now show me you’re all that and a bag of chips.”

 

Regularly, Tim found himself repeating in his head that he didn’t know Jason that well, that almost everything came second hand.  That or at a distance behind a lens.  It was hard enough that the former Robin seemed fixated on his late night activities as a kid, but all the attention spent with him started flaring up some old fires he’d thought smothered long ago.

The string didn’t help.  In the past it had flitted through his life, a warm Gotham breeze that somehow didn’t carry a nasty smell on it.  Nowadays he always noticed it.  Outside of frequency something else caught his attention, how taunt it now seemed.  Before it trailed down quite a ways and faded into the distance.  When he caught sight of it now, it sagged only slight as it led straight from his finger towards no direction in particular.

For the life of him he couldn’t find any changes that correlated with this occurrence, outside of one he was trying very very hard to ignore.  He’d always been star struck by Robin, but once Jason took over the mantel, it had always left him feeling different.  It wasn’t until years later he identified the feelings as probably his first love-sick, head over heels crush.  Now because the universe hated him, he could feel the embers of those old feelings heating him up.  He wished that didn’t translate literally, that when his skin touched Jay’s to work away the pain from training he didn’t feel his temperature rise through the roof.

Thankfully they usually talked about things either liked as a form of distraction from the pain, and it proved useful to Tim for keeping his mind off of the way his heart raced.  In the first few months they found out they had similar taste in just about everything from bad movies to books to things they ranted heavily about.  The next few found them slowly discussing things they both held close to their hearts about their lives, and to Tim’s slight horror he found it just as easy if not easier to tell this version of Jason things.  Somehow he’d found someone who looked interested in every word out of his mouth, but didn’t have the cultural and language barriers he still sometimes ran into with Cass.

 

“Tim, Tim.”

Bolting up, Tim looked around wildly, still feeling the nightmare clawing at him.  His eyes locked on to Jason who was sitting in his power chair next to his own bed, where Tim managed to fall asleep on while waiting for him.

“Whoa cool your jets there hot shot, it’s just me,” Jason soothed as he set a hand down Tim’s shoulder while his chest heaved.  “What are you doing here, or is it too soon to ask questions after you woke?”

“Couldn’t sleep…”

“So you decided to…?” A hand motion from the older man made it clear he wanted him to finish that sentence.

“Go somewhere to clear my head… I went to check to see if you were up and decided to wait for you then I sorta guess I…” He attempted to stifle a yawn.

“Well move over then.” Tim blinked at him, brain not computing the words that went in one ear and straight out the other.  “Look, you’re wonderful and all, but my side of the bed is my side of the bed. That and it’d be a bitch to try and set up the rigging on the other side just cause of your lazy butt. You’re here for a reason, I’m not gonna kick you out for that. It’s a big enough bed.”  For a fraction of a second his hand was on top of Tim’s, but before the warmth could seep farther up his arm it was gone.  “There’s pillows in the closet.”  Tim nodded and crossed the room.

When he heard the sounds of Jason changing he thanked a laundry list of deities and people that he was still searching for another pillow.  This reached a level of intimacy that utterly baffled him, he’d only started changing around Cass in the past year and had even stopped looking away every time she did so, although she still hit him in the head with her shirt every time.  In the grand scheme of things it might not seem a big deal, but to Tim it showed immense comfortability and trust to open yourself up like that.  All of this was happening on top of sharing a bed with him.  His head was liable to explode from over thinking at any moment.

Quickly, he gather himself and the needed bedding before coming out.  It’d been over six months since Jason woke up so he had some semblance of a process to get himself in his bed on his own.  However uncoordinated and filled with muttered words Tim was sure were secretly hex’s it was, it was effective.  By the time Jay flicked out the lights he was situated on the other side trying his best to lower his heart rate enough to sleep.

For a long while the sat in silence, Tim trying his best to keep his mind off the nightmare that haunted his dreams and kept him from sleeping earlier.  The best distraction he knew of laid beside him a few inches away, his soft breathing foreign to Tim’s ears as he relaxed for sleep.

“Jay… do you ever think that no matter what your life seems to take you back to a certain person?”

“If you mean Bruce I’m gonna clock you, accuse him of brainwashing, then hit him with a few clocks.”

“I hope none of the antiques, you’d have to deal with the wrath of Alfred.”

“Okay I might have the record for longest standing brain injury, but I didn’t lose my memory. I’ve got no death wish.”

That drew a chuckle from the younger man.  “Good to see you’ll be sticking around Jay.”

“But serious answer, maybe yeah.  Life has a weird way of making sure the important people stick with you, even when you don’t know they’re there or that they’re important yet.”

Tim nodded in the dark, shifting to get more comfortable.  “I wonder what keeps them from fading out of your life again like some cruel tide though…”

“Is this what was bothering you..?” Tim could hear the sleepy concern clear as day in Jason’s unguarded voice.

“No, no. This is a distraction,” Tim murmured back.

The young man hummed a response and sat silently for a moment. “If they’re really important, if they’re worth it, they fight to stay by your side. Life might try to take them away but they give it a giant middle finger and-”

“Kick it in the shins?” Tim interrupted before yawning.

“Yeah, that’s right attitude. You want it bad enough, dig your nails in, steal every second back…” He could tell Jason struggled to stay coherent.

“Even the ones to come… Thanks, thanks a lot…” A small smile crossed his lips as a comforting feeling passed over him like a blanket.

“Any time…” His voice fluttered out, making it clear he was barely conscious.

“Night Jay…”

Whatever came out of the former Robin’s mouth sounded garbled, making Tim chuckle before following suit and drifting off.

 

For most of Tim’s existence he’s never really liked his birthday.  In the beginning of his life, there were a few happy memories of him under six, but then his parents stopped being around as much.  His birthdays became him and a small cake waiting in the fridge for him after the housekeeper left and, if he was lucky, his parents remembered to send a gift a month late.  After his mother died things didn’t improve.  Alfred became the only one who remembered regularly, and him forcing Bruce’s hand just made it ache worse.  The last happy memory he had of was his 16th birthday, they all remembered and surprised him, then they all died.  Nowadays he didn’t expect anything, he felt it best that way.  He had Cass who remembered and that was good enough for him.

That’s why he thought nothing of Jason’s invite to dinner, he had no reason to question his motives.  Anything focused on him that day had already finished up, he’d been able to block most of Cass’s birthday punches during training.  The one for luck caught him off guard, it always did.  Despite everything he struggled to figure out why Jay might ask him specifically for dinner, Alfred putting him up to it was definitely within the realm of possibilities.

When he entered the Manor everything felt weird.  Unless something big was going down Alfred always knew who arrived and when, that or somehow he didn’t know Tim would show up.  That in its own right was enough food for thought while he wandered into the dining room.  Frowning, he saw the empty room and stopped.  The eerie sensation felt more prominent as he began to realize something about this was going over his head.

His best option seemed to find Jason and figure out for himself where the dinner part of this would go down, and better yet why he called him to start with.  Usually any invites to eat came from Bruce or Alfred themselves, or he was over to start with and just stayed.

Entering the main hall, he headed up the main staircase up to the wing Jason’s room occupied along with the few studies he’d sequestered.  On the stairs leading up to the second floor Tim found something he knew would never bypass Alfred’s inspection, a tin can with a red string leading out of it like the things little kids would make for a telephone.

“What in the world…?”  The young man frowned as he gathered up the metal object and first bit of string.  He could see it led to the second floor and around the corner.  Curiosity would always get the better of him, before his time as Robin investigation was second nature, now felt like his go to mode.

With practiced diligence, he wound the yarn around his hand as he followed it up the steps and down the hall that belonged to the family members.  For some reason there was no doubt in his mind that all of this was set up for him.  He didn’t even question why as walked past his old room, the one Cass usually stayed in, a spare with some of Dick’s things, and Jason’s room.  A ways away the red string disappeared underneath the door Tim knew led to the room that had become Jason’s personal study.

Steeling himself, the young man opened the door and stopped in his tracks.  Before him sat Jason and compilation of their favorite foods.

“What…?”

“Happy birthday. I figured I should get you dinner as we’ve already slept together.”  Tim made an awful choking sputtering noise that made Jason’s face light up like Rudolph’s nose.  “Sorry sorry, thought it was a good ice breaker.”

“Of course you did… that sounds right out of one of those trashy romance novels you keep telling me I need to read,” Tim muttered as he attempted to regain his composure.  “What is all this?”  He motioned to the table and lifted his other hand to indicate the red string and tin can.  It was then he realized where it led, sitting in Jason’s lap was a tin can connected to a red string.

“There’s part of experience in the coma that I haven’t told you… mostly because I didn’t know how to think about it, because I didn’t know how you’d react to it.”  He waited till Tim sat down and nodded before going on.  “The vast expanse wasn’t as empty as I told you. This,” he held up the can. “I saw this there, the string went off into the thick grey fog, but it was something.  Unfortunately for my luck, it was a something that didn’t work for a long time.

“That is until I suddenly heard a voice that seemed to come from it then take on a life of its own in the air.  Your voice, I’m not sure how or why it was your voice, but it seems related to a connection that existed before I even knew you.”  Taking a deep breath, Jason closed his eyes for a moment before looking up and holding Tim’s gaze.  “My whole existence right now feels like an out of control roller coaster that’s being built by the type of kid who got a special kick out of killing people in Sims.  For as much as you feel like a whirlwind of things I’m struggling to comprehend, you also feel like the only solid thing I got. I don’t pretend to understand it at all… but I do get how you make my heart skip beats… and there has to be some reason behind this… I don’t want to let go of that…”

Swallowing thickly, Tim was thankful for the red string as it provided something to do to try and stop his shaking hands.  Jason described him as a whirlwind, and right now that felt apt.  Uncertainty and resurging emotions wared under his skin as he struggled to find the right words.

“I’m not sure I have the response to that… I don’t know if one exists… But I do know one thing, when I talked about life coming back to a certain person I was talking about you.  When you were Robin I developed.. well a crush on you, and then you were gone but I found myself at your side.  The next thing I knew you were awake and we were spending time together and I started feeling weird around you,” Tim hurried through, knowing if he stopped now he’d lose his nerve.  “At first I thought it might be old feelings, but this… it doesn’t feel so simple, not that it was simple before but…” He struggled for words as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Right here, whatever I’m feeling, this is something, something important.  I feel like if this slips through my fingers I’ll never forgive myself…”

Jason stared at him almost in awe before extending his hand towards Tim, his palm up.  “Together, we’ll figure this out…?”

Tim nodded and squeezed his hand, “Yeah, together.”

For a long moment they stayed that way, hands clasped and eyes locked, before they started to put food on their plates.

The air was filled with hope and unsaid promises as Tim looked up at him, “Have you ever heard of the red string of fate?”


End file.
